


bowl cut

by itachicoughs (falterth)



Category: Naruto
Genre: But it's there, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, He does this to himself, Honestly starts out bad but just gets better, Implied Uchiha Sasuke/Hyuuga Neji/Uzumaki Naruto/Haruno Sakura, Nevermind lmfao it starts bad and stays bad, No invasion arc, Not-really-overuse of the word "thot", Sasuke's toxic bangs, The bangs from when he arrives to fight Gaara, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, you know the ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 09:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14054418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falterth/pseuds/itachicoughs
Summary: He starts out with bangs—horrible, over-long bangs—and then he sees all the potential that a new look holds for him.All the potential abowl cutcould give him.





	bowl cut

**Author's Note:**

> i think i erased maito dai/might duy from existence because otherwise gai/guy would have had his bowl cut WAY BEFORE THE AGE OF SEVEN

It’s two weeks into training for the chuunin exams when Kakashi brings it up.

 

“Sasuke,” he starts. His voice sounds cautious, but Sasuke likes to think that he knows his teacher and that he knows Kakashi is never cautious.

 

(He likes to think a lot of things. Whether he’s right or not doesn’t matter because it makes him feel important, and that’s enough.)

 

“What,” he asks flatly.

 

“So I’ve noticed that your, ah . . . your bangs have been—lengthening. And I’m not saying you look bad, or you’re ugly or anything, but if you’d let me give you a haircut, that would be _great_.” Kakashi tries for a winning smile.

 

Sasuke is unimpressed. His hair is _not_ too long. He likes to think that it gives him character. “I really don’t need a haircut. It’s not impairing my vision. I don’t see why I need to change it.”

 

“Have you looked into the mirror recently?”

 

Sasuke is tactfully silent.

 

“I thought so. It’s just _too much_ , and I think it would be okay if it was longer everywhere, but you—I don’t even know where to start.” Kakashi grabs a kunai off of the table. “Come here, I’m solving this right now.”

 

“No.”

 

“Do I have to say it—”

 

“You don’t.”

 

“You look like a—”

 

“— _beautiful_ human being whose bangs are the perfect length?”

 

“A th—”

 

“Don’t you fucking say it.”

 

“Your hair is too long and that is _fact,_ ” Kakashi hisses. The kunai looks particularly threatening in the low light of their cabin.

 

“Pot, kettle, black,” Sasuke says shortly. He is of the opinion that he can conserve energy by saving his words. Maybe he can’t, maybe he can, but at least it makes him sound cooler.

 

Kakashi narrows his eyes. Eye. Whatever. “Sasuke. You fool. You _fool._ The difference between me—” he points to himself, “—and you—” he points an accusing finger at Sasuke, “—is that _I_ can pull it off. Do you honestly think your fan club cares about how you _look?_ ”

 

“Obviously they do,” Sasuke says smugly. He doesn’t even like any of them, but it’s nice to have the attention.

 

“No. How are you not _dead_ yet? You’re so dense. They like you because you’re the last Uchiha in the village. Hell, most of the guys like you for that reason too. Because you’re powerful. Do you really not hear what they say about your hair?”

 

“ . . . And what do they say about my hair?”

 

“Well, there’s the classic ‘duck’s ass,’ the ‘I never really got over my emo phase,’ the ‘goth but not really,’ and . . . hmm. I think that’s it.”

 

“I don’t believe you,” Sasuke says flatly.

 

“Don’t care. You still need a haircut.” Kakashi smiles sweetly—or, at least, his eye curves up.

 

Sasuke frowns because _why does Kakashi not appreciate his carefully cultivated hairstyle,_ and then he runs.

 

_x_

 

Sasuke doesn’t really know why his hair grows fast—but it does, and three weeks later he’s walking into his match with Gaara in the exams and he’s _smirking_ , and he feels like a god.

 

Until he sees the slightly horrified look on Gaara’s otherwise murderous face. Then he’s _grinning_ because he must look powerful if he can instill fear in the “kill or be killed even harder” guy from Suna.

 

Then he sees the look on Sakura’s face, and the look on Naruto’s face (and Neji’s—that’s weird, because _that_ fucker never shows any kind of emotion but “irritated” and “irritated at the main family”), and he feels Kakashi’s fingers dig into his shoulder even harder than they already were and—maybe he was wrong about the haircut.

 

But he _can’t_ be wrong. He feels _glorious._

 

The match goes fine, except that he loses and Gaara’s team makes fun of him. He does put in a good effort, though, so he hopes he’ll be elevated to chuunin status.

 

He sees Naruto and Sakura coming up to him out of the corner of his eye, and he readies his smirk so that he can look victorious when he turns around to face them.

 

Naruto looks at Sakura. Sakura looks at Naruto.

 

Sasuke feels the beginnings of dread curling in his chest.

 

“What the _hell,_ bastard?” Naruto asks him.

 

“What do you mean?” Sasuke asks haughtily. If Naruto’s going to play hard to get, then so is he.

 

“You really have no idea, do you?” Sakura asks him. “Kakashi was _right._ Holy shit he was _right._ ”

 

“Right about _what?_ ”

 

Sakura puts her head in her hands. “Your—hair.”

 

“Your hair,” Naruto agrees.

  
  
“What _about_ my hair?” Sasuke snaps. “Other than the fact that it is glorious and that you _know_ it is glorious?”

 

Naruto and Sakura exchange the look. The look that tells Sasuke that they are about to say something.

 

“You—fucking— _thot,_ ” they say through clenched teeth.

 

Sakura glares at him. “You come into the exam with those hideous bangs—they’re past your collarbone, for the gods’ sake—with that insufferable _smirk_ on your face and you make us all think that, in spite of that horrible blue-ish black growth on your head, that you are going to kick that guy’s ass, and then you get beaten into the ground by him because you couldn’t stop—”

 

Naruto butts in. “— _adjusting your bangs._ ” His voice shakes with the kind of primal fury Sasuke hasn’t heard since the bridge. “You let your bangs get in the way of your becoming a chuunin? Gods, I hope you don’t stay like this. You know you’re actually kind of good-looking when your hair is short?”

 

_Good-looking?_

 

“Go on,” Sasuke says.

 

“Are you only listening to him because you want some beauty tips?”

 

“I must always look my best,” Sasuke replies primly.

 

“Get fucked,” Naruto and Sakura say—they’re slightly out of sync this time, but the sheer disappointment in their words makes up for it.

 

Sasuke frowns after their retreating figures.

 

Kakashi saunters up to him not a minute later, hand raised in a greeting. “Yo,” he says casually.

 

“Heck off,” Sasuke mutters. He doesn’t have the energy to use cuss words right now.

 

“You know, they’re right. I never got a chance to say it while we were training, but _gods,_ they’re so right. I’m not supposed to show favoritism or bias because I’m your teacher, but, y’know. You _are_ such a thot. You’re never going to get revenge or whatever it is that you’re chasing after these days if you keep going on like this. Itachi will die laughing.”

 

“It’s true, but you really shouldn’t say it,” someone that sounds suspiciously like Iruka says from behind Sasuke. “I think he tries.”

 

 _Finally._ Someone is on his side. “I _do_ try,” Sasuke explains eagerly. “You know that I use a special shampoo to keep my hair as shiny as it is, and my conditioner is something I make on my own. I got a barber’s license just for this. I’ve also been experimenting with makeup recently, especially eyeshadow. It does _wonders_ for me, really. I know I really should ask a professional, because what else would I do with all these funds lying around my house? It’s not like I’m going to be, I dunno, buying better weapons or making sure my lands are well-kept. No need. So I’ve actually—”

 

Iruka cuts him off firmly. “Not what I meant, but—” Then he has to cut _himself_ off, because Iruka’s a teacher and he’s not supposed to be saying cool things. Sasuke suspects that he was going to say something along the lines of “but go off.”

 

He doesn’t really understand what it means, so he takes it as a cue to continue. “As I was saying, I don’t really have anything to do with my money so I’m just going to spend it all on makeup that I won’t even use. I’ve been thinking about nail polish. I also want to grow my bangs out longer, but I’m afraid it’ll make my head heavy and then I won’t be able to look at myself in the bathroom mirror for an hour every morning.” He leans in to whisper to the two. “That’s part of my morning routine.”

 

Iruka smiles and Kakashi looks vaguely angry, if the flailing hand gestures are anything to go by. Sasuke figures that he’s enlightened them enough.

 

_x_

 

During the walk home, he is assaulted by Neji and Sakura.

 

“So, I brought Neji here because he knows how to do long hair and you don’t."

 

Sasuke cranes his head to the side so he can peer around them. “Where’s Naruto?”

 

“Right there.” Sakura points to a figure that vaguely resembles a bright orange—Sasuke can’t come up with a comparison, but it’s barreling toward them at never-before-seen speeds, and he can’t help feeling a little proud. Sometimes, one has to go fast.

 

“SAKURA DID YOU GET NEJI—Hi, Neji,” Naruto says. He’s panting and it really bothers Sasuke, because does Naruto even _know_ how bad it is to sweat that much? The only reason Sasuke avoids spars is because the stress and sweat would absolutely _ruin_ his perfect complexion. Also, his hair might get tangled or otherwise damaged.

 

“I’m here to show you how to look good,” Neji says, looking down his nose at Sasuke. “Rule one: you can’t. Go home, please.”

 

Sasuke feels personally attacked. In fact, he’s just _been_ personally attacked. He wipes a tear from his eye. “One day, Neji,” he promises. “One day, I’ll be beautiful enough to surpass even you. You think you’re hot stuff now? Just wait until I leave for two years. I’ll come back a better man. Just. Give me time. Time, and beauty tips.”

 

_x_

 

Neji is _disgusted._ Who does this guy think he is? Why is he trying to encroach on Neji’s territory? Unlike Sasuke, Neji’s hair actually _is_ carefully groomed and cultivated. He has the whole of Konohagakure wrapped around his little finger.

 

Neji heaves a long, long sigh.

 

_x_

 

“Like I said: go home, you thot. Or look for Gai-sensei. He might be able to do something with your hair.”

 

Sakura’s eyes gleam. Sasuke would like to think that she is being genuine. Naruto hasn’t really done anything besides standing to Neji’s right and looking offended. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “I hear that Rock Lee’s gotten quite the fan base recently.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Sasuke knows that he’s hooked, and that he’s going to fall for whatever bullshit Sakura is likely to feed him next but _gods damnit_ he wants people to like him for his _looks_ —not who he is as a person. What kind of nonsense would that be? Probably something that Naruto would say, if he’s being perfectly honest.

 

Which he is. Sasuke would like to think that honesty is an attractive trait.

 

“I hear that bowl cuts are in fashion. Well, I hear a lot of things, actually, but this is by _far_ the most valid and important thing I have heard recently. You know what? A new look would do you some good.”

 

Naruto nods sagely. “I heard you talking about makeup with Iruka-sensei and Kakashi-sensei. If your bangs are hiding your face all the time, how are people going to see the skills with which you apply makeup?”

 

Before Sasuke can reply to this thoughtful and benevolent advice, Neji lays a hand on Naruto’s shoulder and speaks.

 

“Naruto. I know sometimes I take you for granted, and I’m sorry. That was the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever said, and sometimes I forget that you’re capable of words like that.”

 

“I could _kiss_ you, Neji.”

  
  
“No—please don’t,” Neji says. “I haven’t brushed my teeth today. I also think Sakura would punch me in the eyes if I did. See? She just nodded.”

 

Naruto acquiesces. “ _Fine._ ”

 

Sasuke hums ponderingly. “Maybe I _will_ seek out Gai-sensei. If this ‘bowl cut’ is as powerful as you three imply it is . . . I wonder . . . ”

 

Naruto, Sakura, and Neji nod encouragingly at him and point him in the general direction of the area team Gai frequents the most. Sasuke thanks them profusely, promising to pay them back for their counsel at a later date, and then he sets off because he is a man on a mission.

 

_x_

 

“SASUKE!” Rock Lee shouts at him.

 

Sasuke accepts the greetings graciously, and then proceeds to ask the enthusiastic ninja about the location of his teacher.

 

“Gai-sensei?” Lee asks, appearing to think about it for a moment. “Worry not! He is watching us from across the training grounds. He says he wants to remain at a distance so that our mock fights may encompass a larger area.”

 

“Thank you,” Sasuke says, and he makes his way across the field.

 

“YOUTH!” Gai shouts at him. Gai is overflowing with joy and the same bright green enthusiasm that has Lee so motivated today. “What do you seek!?”

 

“I’ve heard from somebody—who will remain anonymous—that bowl cuts are in fashion. I was advised to visit you. I wish to receive this . . . this _bowl cut_ ,” Sasuke says by way of introduction.

 

“Wonderful!”

 

Lee hears them from across the training ground. “Wonderful!” comes the faint response.

 

Gai takes out a bowl and a pair of scissors ( _Scissors,_ Sasuke thinks. _Finally. Civilization._ ) and gestures toward the stream that runs beside the area. “Shall we?”

 

Sasuke nods, and they head toward it.

 

Gai starts by dunking Sasuke bodily into the water, and then retrieving him after about five seconds. “This is to get your hair wet,” he explains gravely. “I’m sorry about the temperature.”

 

“You’ve ruined my mascara. I put it on extra-thick today because I knew I would be in front of a crowd. However—the whole ‘just broke up with my boyfriend of three weeks’ look may work on me . . . I’ll give this more thought. Please continue, Gai-sensei.”

 

“Ah, youth,” the older man says wistfully. “I remember my first haircut.”

 

Sasuke doesn’t ask him for the details, but he gets them anyway.

 

The next half hour is spent with a bowl over his head and a pair of scissors _uncomfortably close_ to his neck and the sound of snipping. He mourns the loss of his—what were they called? ah, yes—raven/ebony locks, silky to the touch and beautiful to behold. His time is _also_ spent listening to Gai regale him with the tale of the First Bowl Cut.

 

“I was—how old was I? Rock Lee! How old was I when I received my first bowl cut? Seven years? Thank you, Rock Lee—seven years old, and I had just become a student of the academy. Of course, many of the details are lost to time, but the point was that I was dunked in a river, much like I have dunked you, and the bowl that I am using on you is the _very same bowl_ that I received my first bowl cut with. Isn’t it beautiful?”

 

 _Aren’t_ **_I_ ** _beautiful?_ Sasuke thinks. _Aren’t I just_ **_lovely_ ** _?_ He’s excited for a new look. He can’t wait to go home and look up videos of makeup tutorials especially for people with bowl cuts. With the upsurge in bowl cut wearers, he’s sure that he’ll find something that will help him out.

 

After the last lock of his raven hair is sheared, he stares at the ground and spends a good few seconds lamenting for the loss of a part of himself. He thanks Gai solemnly, and says farewell to Rock Lee, and then he’s going home as quickly as possibly because he really can’t gosh darn wait to see what his new ‘do looks like.

 

_x_

 

 _Glorious_ doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 

Sasuke’s face is in focus now—everyone who looks at him will be instantly drawn to look at the makeup running down his face (he’s sure that if he goes out like this enough, a trend will start), to the expert way his eyebrows are drawn.

 

The bowl cut is sharp and professional, and Sasuke has to admit that it is much lighter, too.

 

He’s also started to train with Gai and Lee, because he feels that there is more than just a visual bond here—he and the two others feel like family. They’re—they’re _kin_ with each other, and it brings a tear to Sasuke’s eye. He’s feeling really fucking youthful today.

 

He’s gained a much larger following now, and Naruto and Neji and Sakura regularly _swoon_ into his lap. If he’s sitting down, that is. If he’s standing, they swoon regardless, and he catches them. It’s all very romantic. Sometimes two or three of them swoon at once and he makes a spectacle in the street by catching them all at the same time, and then a _queue_ forms so that people can swoon into his arms/lap/whatever is available at the moment.

 

He feels—content. Content now that he’s gotten a bowl cut and that he can show off his godsawful makeup to the world and people are _staring,_ and he’s never known what it felt like to be a superstar until now. But he is one and he does know, and—

 

He never would have gotten here if not for Kakashi.

 

“Kakashi-sensei,” he says, standing on the podium. He’s nervous, but not so nervous that he is falling apart. “You lifted me up when I was sad. You told me how to do my nails and take care of my—” he looks down at his notecards, “—cuticles. When my makeup was running, you told me to hold my head up. To show it off to the world. You picked up the kunai and tried to help me before I even realized I needed it.”

 

He pauses meaningfully, and Kakashi, unbeknownst to the new Hokage, has to try hard to keep his laughter in.

 

“Naruto: you’ve always played hard to get. Please stop it because it is really frustrating and I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. Sakura, what can I say? You were the one that set me on this path. You were the one that made me see how much I was really worth, and how much better I was than the hairstyle I had in the past. You helped me move past those _toxic, toxic bangs_ , and you helped me let go of my short-sightedness. I guess, Naruto, that you helped too. You helped me forget revenge when I thought I wanted it most, and I am forever grateful to _both_ of you for getting me where I am now.”

 

He thinks back, and smiles with a sad kind of nostalgia when he remembers the way the wind used to blow through his hair. Sometimes, he thought his hair could talk to him—his bangs could tell him that it was getting late, that someone was calling—it had given him his first confidence boost. A guy like him? Warning signs should be going off in the heads of all those who were graced with his presence. He was _dangerous._ People would _fall for him,_ and they would _love it._

 

He’s almost tempted to miss his bangs, but then he reminds himself that he’s gotten so much more done without them. That he’s so much greater of a man than he used to be.

 

“Thank you, Neji,” he continues, “for telling me what I needed to hear, even if it wasn’t what I _wanted_ to hear. All those times you swooned at me—those times our eyes met, white on black and black on white and sometimes my eyes were red, but I’m not going to get into that—I remember them all because of my Sharingan, which enhances and perfects the memories of anything I see while they are activated. They also do other things, but this is my inauguration speech, and I—am going on a tangent.

 

“Last, but certainly not least: Rock Lee and Maito Gai. You two have guided me when I refused to be guided. You two let me transform into the man I am today. How can I _ever_ repay you for something like that? How can I ever repay you for being the family that I should have had from the beginning? _How can I repay you_ —for telling me to keep my head up when all I wanted to do was let it hang down?”

 

Sasuke grips the sides of the podium with both hands. He looks up and out, over the crowd but also into the crowd, making eye contact with as many people as he can.

 

“I promise,” he says solemnly, “to serve Konohagakure with all of my heart and all of my soul. I also never could have done it without the support of this village to aid me in my time of need, and to set me on the right path when I started to stray toward the wrong one.”

 

He nods with finality. The hat feels so right on his head, and he is proud and his makeup is running and he looks like he has just come back from the dead, but the people of the village love him because he has earned it.

 

Sasuke is the seventh Hokage, and here he has made a home. (Here he will _keep_ his home.)

**Author's Note:**

> this is canon
> 
> 1 comment = 1 enablement
> 
> ALSO: this
> 
>  


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